


Broken Reflection

by periwinklewhite



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curses, Druids, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Magic Revealed, Magical Creatures, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Self-Discovery, Understanding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-03-19 22:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklewhite/pseuds/periwinklewhite
Summary: Arthur and Merlin had always been more than a prince and his manservant; their friendship is based on loyalty and love to one another. Merlin had proved again and again that he would give his own life to save Arthur, however as the tables are turned, would Prince Arthur be able to let go of the prejudice and hatred that had been taught for him or would he and Merlin become victims of fear?





	1. Chapter 1

“ _Merlin!_ ”

The scream echoed through the castle halls, both servants and nobility alike stepped aside as a young man rushed towards the source of the voice, nearly tripping a couple of times as he rushed up the stairs. The sight of the black haired servant running around was not unusual, and most, if not all, of those in the castle, knew to get out of the way if they did not wish a collision.

“You called, sire?” the man asked, heaving out as he leaned against the bedchambers open doors, a goofy smile playing on his lips as he held his side.

The blonde royal turned to look at his servant; blue eyes narrowed as he shook his head and threw a dirty shirt on the floor. “You’re late,” he said, voice harsh and yet lacking any malicious intent. “Again.”

Merlin simply smiled and stepped closer, taking another moment to calm his beating heart before moving to pick up the garment on the floor. “Am I? Are you sure that you’re not just early?” he asked, a mischevious glint in his bright eyes. “Had your practice gone badly, sire? Perhaps you’re getting old.” Merlin ducked just in time to avoid a candlestick aimed at his head.

“You insolent brat!” Arthur snapped at him, glaring as Merlin simply smiled back innocently. “Make yourself useful for once, drew me a bath and then wash my clothes, polish my armour and sharpen my sword,” he said, crossing his arms as he watched his manservant. “Now, Merlin!” he added, rolling his eyes as Merlin quickly rush to start with his tasks.

Most people would have pegged Merlin as a useless servant, he often talked back and disobeyed orders, he was awfully clumsy and a complete idiot most of the time. Most men would have dismissed him long ago, but as useless as Merlin may be as a manservant, Arthur could not imagine having anyone else in his service. Merlin may be an idiot, but he was Prince Arthur’s idiot, he was loyal and honest, but most importantly, he was Arthur’s best friend. Not that he would ever admit it, no, he wouldn’t be able to stand that gleeful smirk that would decorate his pointy face to know that Arthur actually cared for him. Just the thought was enough to send shivers down the royal’s spine.

A loud clang echoed around the room as Merlin dropped Arthur’s helmet on the ground, quickly moving to pick it up with a sheepish smile. The prince did not even bother to say anything, merely shaking his head in response. Perhaps it was just better to keep things as they were.

* * *

The day had gone pretty much like any other day, Arthur would bark out orders, and Merlin would somewhat comply, offering his own snarky remark before dodging whatever the prince threw his way. He had only broken one plate, which, according to Arthur, must have been some kind of a record, but Merlin did not really care. They laughed a bit, insulted each other and bickered as they usually did, but most importantly, Arthur had managed to avoid getting into a life-threatening situation, and his manservant indeed considered it as a successful day.

At the moment, Merlin stood at the shadows of the hall, watching his liege dine with his father and the Lady Morgana, he was only listening with half an ear to their conversations.

Usually, the man would spend more energy trying to catch the exchanged words between the three, and if only to keep an eye on Morgana, alas, the lady rarely gave him any useful information, playing the part of the loving ward too well for his liking. He knew that she was up to something, Morgana was always up to something, but Merlin rarely knew what she was planning before it was too late.

He needed to keep an eye on her, but he found it hard to concentrate, it had been a long day, and his eyes felt heavy. He could hardly remember the last time that he got proper rest, perhaps he could let it go for one night.

“Merlin,” he quickly looked up at the sound of Arthur’s voice, taking a moment too long to realise that he was holding up his glass of wine for Merlin to feel.

“Right,” he said, quickly complying and stepping forward, only things hadn’t gone exactly as planned.

“ _Merlin!”_ Arthur screamed, getting up from his chair as he tried to dry the wine that had spilt over his front. “You clumsy idiot!”

Merlin simply took a step backwards and bowed his head, biting his tongue to avoid saying the wrong thing in the presence of the king. “I’m sorry, sire. Please forgive me,” he said, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“Please, Arthur, don’t be such a child,” Morgana’s musical voice echoed above the prince’s groans. “Merlin is clearly tired; you’ve been working him nonstop. The poor boy deserves some rest,” she sounded so kind, and for a moment, Merlin could remember how things had been, however as he looked up to her, he could see the dark glint in her eyes -- the reminder that the Morgana who had been his friend was now gone.

“If the boy is of no use at this moment, send him away for the night,” Uther spoke, unsurprisingly taking Morgana’s side. Merlin’s eyes grew wide as he looked at Arthur, willing the prince to be as stubborn as he could be and insist on having Merlin stay by his side, regardless of whether or not he deserved good night rest.

Arthur looked back at him and sighed, “you heard them, Merlin, you’re dismissed.” Of course, the prince never did what Merlin wanted him to. He waited another moment, staring into Arthur’s eyes for a moment longer, he eventually nodded and bowed to the nobles in the room, leaving the room but not without tripping over his own feet on the way.

Heat rushed to his cheeks as he quickly got up to his feet, ignoring the small chuckle from the table before rushing back to the physician's quarters. Maybe sleep wasn’t that bad of an idea; some rest wouldn’t be unwelcome.

“You’re back early,” Gaius’ voice greeted Merlin as soon as he walked through the door.

“The prat figured he could get himself to bed alone,” he answered, stretching his hands above his head and stifling a yawn. “Which is exactly what I plan to do,” said Merlin, slowly making his way towards his bedroom.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Gaius said, watching his ward as he stood in front of his bedroom door, turning to give the old man a questioning look. Gaius raised one of his eyebrows, pointing to the small plate of food placed on the table.

Merlin grinned at him, slightly more energetic as he rushed down the stairs and sat down, quickly starting to eat.

The old physician shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he turned back to his job, and Merlin just smiled back. It was just a typical day, a good day if he was getting to bed early.

* * *

_“Merlin!”_

The prince’s voice echoed through the halls of the castle as he got up from his bed, his good for nothing servant had not shown up to wake him up and offer breakfast. The curtains were still drawn, and there was no sign of Merlin anywhere around, however, if the guard at the door was not wrong and Arthur doubted that he was, then the prince was already late.

Agitated, Arthur began to get dressed for the day, struggling more than he liked to admit. He had been ever so kind to let the idiot off early the day before, and the reward that he gets was for Merlin to sleep in. He was going to give him a piece of his mind, maybe even a visit to the stocks, that was ought to teach him a lesson.

Once dressed, the prince picked up his sword and began to make his way towards Gaius; the old man always seemed to know where Merlin was.

Recognising their lord’s anger, all stepped aside as soon as Arthur came near, clearing him the path to the physician quarters, already fully aware of the intentions of their prince. The servants even whispered between them, betting on what Merlin had done this time.

“Merlin!” he called again, nearly kicking the door open and startling Gaius in the process. Flinching and feeling slightly apologetic, Arthur willed himself to calm down. “Gaius!” he said in a more cheerful tone. “Have you seen that useless manservant of mine?”

Gaius only looked at the prince with slight confusion, “Merlin?” he asked, placing his book down as he slowly got up from his seat. “No, sire. He had left at sunup as always,” he said, eyes darting to the open the door to his ward’s bedroom.

Arthur groaned, the anger inside of him, boiling over. “If you see the idiot, send him to me right away,” he said.

“I will, sire,” Gaius answered with a small bow of his head, his voice showing his confusion and perhaps worry. Arthur had no time for it; he would not be made a fool of just because Merlin had somewhat gotten lost that day. He offered a nod of his head to Gaius and turned to leave, only to take a step back as the door burst open once again, and Guinevere came rushing in.

“Guinevere?” Arthur asked, concern in his eyes as he stepped forward, offering support for the maiden as she stepped inside the quarters, her eyes were wild as she looked between Gaius and Arthur.

“You need to come quickly,” she said, her voice heavy with her laboured breathing as she looked right at Gaius. “Both of you,” she added, her eyes turning to look at Arthur. “It’s Merlin.”

Arthur could feel his blood run cold at the words, blue eyes growing wide as he turned his gaze to the old physician. “Where?” he asked, but Guinevere was still struggling to talk in her state. “Where is he?” he asked again, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“The kitchens, sire, the cook found him like that,” she gasped, and Arthur let her go, running towards the kitchens. What did his foolish manservant had gotten himself into now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it had been so long since I wrote anything, but I hope that it's to your liking.
> 
> I'm still not sure whether or not if I'm going to add some romantic spin to Arthur and Merlin's possibility, but I would tell you right away that it is an option, so if that's an issue, you can step out right now.
> 
> Comments are very welcomed and appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

His heart thumped in his ears as he rushed into the physician’s quarters, his arms straining under the weight of the man held in him and yet the pain was hardly anything to worry about now. Whatever Arthur had expected to find when Guinevere had informed him that something had happened to Merlin, it was not this.

“Put him down here,” said Gaius, his voice straining as he frantically moved around the room, going through vails in search of something specific, what, Arthur did not know. The prince quickly did as he was told, gently placing Merlin down on the cot before taking a step back and allowing the physician to do his job, yet, he remained close by, his anger long since melted away to be replaced with fear and worry.

Merlin’s pale skin was almost white in the light of the room, giving the young man a ghostly look as it was virtually transparent, allowing his veins to show across his arms and face. He was cold to the touch, and if it was not for the slow rising and falling of his chest, Arthur might have thought him to be dead for Merlin had surely looked the part in this current state.

Arthur’s nails dug into his palms as he waited for Gaius’ verdict, a diagnose, anything that could explain what could have possibly done this, but no words came from the old man’s mouth. It did not help to calm Arthur’s growing nerves.

The prince began pacing around the room, eyes snapping back towards his fallen friend every other second as if expecting him to open his eyes and get up with the annoying, stupid grin of his and yet, Merlin did not budge. 

“Arthur,” Guinevere’s voice cut through the silence as she moved closer to the prince, gently placing her hand on his arm. “He’ll be fine, it’s Merlin, he’s always fine,” she tried to reassure, but her eyes were wary and her voice shaken.

He wanted to believe the words that she was speaking; after all, Guinevere was not entirely wrong. Arthur and Merlin had been through hell together, and the foolish manservant always managed to walk out of whatever situation they were in, no armour, no weapon and yet, for the most part, Merlin remains unscratched. Arthur always admired it about him, the unwavering determination and loyalty he had. Merlin was keen; sure, whatever it was, he could deal with it. 

He had to.

Arthur sighed, placing his left hand on top of Guinevere’s and offering her a small smile. He had no words of comfort to offer, Merlin had been much of a friend to her as he had been to him and yet there she was, composed while Arthur himself only wished to scream and shake the man until he woke up, command him to get up and be mad when he disobeyed the order.

“Sire?” Arthur snapped toward the door at the sound of the voice, his eyes wild and dangerous, and the guard took a step backwards. “The king is requesting your presence, sire,” the guard said, eyes lowered in an attempt to avoid the prince’s foul temper.

“Go, I’ll stay here with Merlin,” Guinevere said before Arthur could voice his protest. He did not wish to leave, not when Merlin was in this unclear state, and she could see it, Arthur knew that she could, but he also knew that she was right and that he couldn’t possibly ignore his father summon. “I’ll come and get you if anything happens, I promise.”

Arthur looked at her for another moment before he groaned, giving Merlin one more look and leaving the physician’s quarters. His mood did not improve as he made his way to the throne room, a lingering feeling of dread burning in his bones, screaming at him that he should not have left his manservant’s side.

* * *

 

A deep sigh left Guinevere’s lips as she watched Arthur’s retreating form, her shoulders which had been held straight a moment before slumped as she turned her attention back to Merlin. She may not be as close to Merlin as Arthur was, but she feared for her friend, for both of them.

Guinevere had been in Camelot through many attacks and horrors; she had seen blood and death -- she knew what a dying man looked like, she knew that it was how Merlin looked like. 

“Gaius is there anything-” she began to ask but the physician simply waved his hand at her, focusing on his job and the handmaiden was left with nothing to do but wait, feeling helpless.

Merlin had never seemed like much, not when a person first met him, but through his years at Camelot, Guinevere knew that he had become a part of the castle and the people. He was charming and likeable, clueless and yet so incredibly brave and while he was a commoner, she knew in her heart that if something were to happen to him, many would miss him, both commoners and nobles because that was just like Merlin to ignore the hierarchy of society, to just be himself.

Guinevere covered her mouth with her shaking hands, concealing a choked sob as she looked at his still form. She was mad at herself now, thinking about him dying and all that would come after -- he wasn’t dead yet, and whatever happened to him, she had to believe that Merlin could fight it.

He had to fight it.

“Please, Merlin,” she whispered, tears filled eyes staring at her friend. “You cannot die; you must not die,” she added. Guinevere would be broken if he wouldn’t make it, she knew it, but Arthur? Oh, Guinevere knew that he’d be devastated, she wasn’t a fool, whatever feelings she and the prince were developing to one another was nothing in comparison to Arthur’s devotion to Merlin. If Merlin was to die, she wasn’t sure Arthur would ever recover because no one would be able to replace him in the prince’s mind. No one, not even her.

* * *

 

The king was not in a good mood when Arthur stepped into the throne room, but for once the prince of Camelot did not care whether or not his father was angry at him for being late to whatever ridiculous thing he was meant to do that morning. “You called for me, father?” he asked, bowing his head in respect.

Uther was clearly trying to control his anger, pacing in front of his throne and keeping his cold eyes on his only son. “What games are you playing, you insolent child?” he raised his voice, moving to walk towards Arthur. “Where were you this morning when you were meant to greet Lady Rosemary of Kent?” Uther stopped in front of his son, the vein in his neck popping in his anger.

Arthur cursed under his breath, and he had utterly forgotten anything he had to do the moment he had laid his eyes on Merlin, even now he could still see his pale ghostly face and still body in front of his eyes. “No, sire,” he said, lowering his eyes. It would be smarter to please his father at this moment, save him time and allow him to get back to Merlin’s side as soon as possible. “I would apologise to the Lady first thing,” it was not an answer, but the prince knew that his father would disapprove him  _ wasting _ his time on a lowly servant.

“Do not be too harsh on him,” came a soft voice before Uther could scold his son farther and Arthur turned his eyes to see Morgana walk into the room, looking as regal as she always did. “I’ve heard that a servant had collapsed near the kitchens and that it had been quite the communion, Arthur must have gone to check on it,” she explained the king and Arthur was suddenly thankful for her way with words.

He turned his attention back to his father, “he seemed to be in bad shape, sire,” he said, deliberately avoiding mentioning that it was his own manservant that had fallen ill. “The servants were shaken, he had been taken to Gaius as soon as possible, I was with him when you called for me.”

Uther narrowed his eyes, looking between his son and ward with cautious. “Sire, surely you can understand the importance of checking such a situation, especially in such a critical location,” Morgana added.

This had seemed to help calm the king somewhat, there was still fire in his eyes, but he stepped back to sit down, the situation changed. “Have Gaius found out the source of the boy’s illness?” he asked, voice more steady as he stared right at Arthur.

“No, sire, he was still checking on him when I left,” Arthur answered, grateful for Morgana’s intervention. “However, I had ordered the servants to check the entire kitchens and ensure that nothing there would harm anyone,” it hadn’t been his idea, but Gaius had been able to keep a more level head than him upon seeing Merlin, the physician wishing to avoid any radical situation from spreading around the castle.

Uther leaned back in his seat; he did not say anything for a short while, considering the options and the situation present to him. Arthur couldn’t even bring himself to try and figure out what was going in the king’s head. Instead, his mind was focused solely on Merlin, wondering how he was faring. 

“You will apologise to Lady Rosemary,” Uther began, forcing Arthur to look up to him. “I also expect a full report from Gaius, I will not have servants spreading disease in my castle,” his voice was harsh, and Arthur almost flinched. He loved his father, but at times he was cold and ruthless, he wouldn’t even care for the wellness of a man falling ill under his service, not a commoner. 

“Yes, father,” he said, biting his tongue, counting the seconds in his heart until he could leave. Surely Merlin would be alright by the time he got back to Gaius, sitting and blubbering about who knew what so that he could annoy Arthur a bit more. Surely, Merlin would be fine.

Arthur bowed to his father before turning to leave the throne room, blue eyes glancing at Morgana as she offered him a sympathetic smile. He was glad to have her back. ‘Thank you,’ he mouthed, something that only a few years seemed impossible and even now, if not for the worry in his heart, he would not have shared his gratitude. 

He had just gotten to doors when they opened, revealing a graved looking Gaius and for a moment, Arthur feared the worst. 

Arthur wanted to ask, but his father got up once again, “Gaius, what is it?” 

The old physician took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes lingering over the prince for a short moment before he turned his attention to the king. “Magic, sire,” he said, and the words seemed to echo around the room, the anger returning to Uther’s eyes.

“Magic?” he spat, and Arthur’s heart began to hammer in his chest. Merlin was prone to getting in troubles, but his stupid manservant wouldn’t involve himself in something like that. Why would someone even want to curse Merlin? It made no sense.

“Yes, my lord,” Gaius said, stepping forward and looking at the king. “A very powerful curse at that,” he added.

Uther’s face grew red with anger, “is it contained? I would not have magic harm this kingdom!” he yelled, but Arthur wasn’t listening, all he could see was Merlin’s pale face and heard the slowing beating of his heart. Magic had taken so much from him; he would not allow it to take Merlin away too.

Determination shone in the prince’s eyes as he turned back to look at his father. “I would gather a group of knights, and we would find this sorcerer, bring him to justice,” he said, there was no question, and with or without the king’s approval, Arthur will find this monster and force it to remove the curse, he’ll kill the monster who had done this.

The king looked at him for a moment, his face dark, and his eyes harsh. “See that it is done, I shall explain your absence to the Lady Rosemary,” he commanded. “Magic has no place in Camelot.”

“No, sire,” Arthur agreed, anger boiling in his blood. “The evils of magic would not harm this kingdom,” and with that, the prince turned on his heel and left the room, he should be preparing to head out as soon as possible but he had to see Merlin’s first and promise him that he would not stop until Merlin was safe once more, until Camelot was safe again.


	3. Chapter 3

A deep sigh escaped his lips, as he placed a shaky hand over Merlin’s pale one, he was still cold to the touch, too cold for comfort. Arthur could remember each and every single time Merlin’s life were in danger, every time he seemed close to death but nothing could compare to this. It was as if something in his guts was telling him that this was worse, that this could truly be the end.

Then again, it couldn’t be the end. It must not be. 

For if this was really where they parted then the last thing Arthur did was call Merlin an idiot and insignificant and that just couldn’t be. If they were to part ways than Arthur wanted Merlin to know just how much he meant to him, how there was no one that would ever be able to replace him because despite how impossible it should be, Merlin was Arthur’s one true friend. The one person who saw him more than just a prince or a knight, just Arthur, no titles.

“I’ll fix this,” he whispered, squeezing Merlin’s hand before fixing the blankets on top of him, an attempt to keep him warm. “You’re not allowed to die while I’m gone, I forbid it,” he added, barely managing to keep his voice steady.  

Arthur stood up at the sound of the door opening, his eyes turning cold as he turned to look at Leon at the door. “Sire,” the knight said in a quiet tone, eyes falling over Merlin’s still body. “Sirs Roland and Cedric are ready to leave as you requested.”

Three knights, the ones Arthur could trust the most were those who had been chosen on this trip with him. He could not bring many as a quest of this type might require, they needed to be fast and while finding the sorcerer was the King’s main priority, the prince had plans of his own. They would seek the Druids on their way and find a way to remove this curse, after Merlin’s well-being would be ensured and only then, would Arthur search for the threat.

It may seem ridiculous, for a prince to risk something of that sort for a mere manservant, but Arthur knew that his man would not question him, that they would understand. 

Merlin was an idiot, but a likeable one and Arthur could only think of one reason as to why he would be in this situation now -- the curse must have been intended to Arthur and his loyal idiotic manservant just had to get in the way. Again.

Arthur didn’t like admitting it, but there were countless times in which Merlin had blindly put his life on the line to save Arthur’s. He couldn’t believe that he owed Merlin his life. Again.

When this all thing was over, Arthur would have to have a very long talk with him and remind him that he needed to stop dying all of the time, because Arthur was getting tired of being Merlin’s knight in shining armour. 

Because it wasn’t Merlin’s job to die for Arthur.

“We shall leave immediately,” said the prince, his eyes gazing over Merlin one more time before he left the Physician’s chambers, Leon following close behind, neither of them spoke as they mounted their horses and the silence remain as the knights left the city.

Arthur may not admit it out loud, but it was clear to all that dared to look - he cared, he made a friend of this commoner, he’d do anything for him.

* * *

 

It had been many hours before they stopped, the last rays of sun shining through the trees, caressing the forest ground in red and gold. For once, there was no noise but the sound of the horses or the animals around, a ragged breath from one of the knights due to the effort but no words spoken.

Arthur couldn’t but grit his teeth at that, it did not feel right to ride in silence, to miss the ridiclous and idiotic comments of his manservant or his constant questioning of where they were heading. No one ever questioned Arthur like that before Merlin, no one dared to make every single thing about the prince’s life their business as much as Merlin and it was in this quiet that he realised how much he had grown to like that part of his manservant.

A small grunt left Arthur’s lips as he encouraged his horse forward, pushing to the edge of the limit because he knew that they did not have time to waste, they had to keep going. However, no matter the encouragement or the intentions, the horses were slowing down and he knew, from the soreness of his own muscles, that his knights required rest as well. 

It was with another silent groan that the prince had lifted his left hand, signaling for the group to stop for the first time since they had left Camelot. They were still at least a day from the forests of Essetir, where they would have to search blindly for a group of Druids who might not even be willing to help. If Arthur believed that they could push farther today, he would not have stopped -- he was simply aware of their limits.

“We would camp here for the night,” he said, dismounting his horse and offering the reins to Leon as the knight reached for them. “Cedric, collect firewood. Roland, see if you can hunt anything,” he said, gesturing to the two young knights before turning his attention back to Leon. The older knight was tying the horses, relieving them from the weight that they carried.

“You’re worried,” Leon said once he was alone with the prince, even if it wasn’t his place, even if was something the Leon never quite understood, it was clear as day. “Forgive me sire, if I’m overstepping,” he began, taking a step closer to Arthur. “But it’s unnerving to them, they would not question you but it would not bode well for any of us to be anxious.” 

Arthur glared at him, if only half heartedly. He knew that Leon was right, he was on edge and while both the younger knights could be trusted, personally trained and knighted under Arthur’s watchful eye, this was not one of the things that they had been trained for.

“It’s too quiet,” he admitted after a while, “no useless bubbling or tripping over roots that aren’t there.”

Leon chuckled at this, moving to sit next to his friend and patting on his back. “You’ve forgot what it’s like to leave on a proper mission, no one ever takes their manservants on missions and patrols the way you do with Merlin. I must admit that even I find it odd now, going without him.” It was moments like this which reminded Arthur why, for so long, Leon had been his closest friend. “You must relax, they’ll talk if they would not worry that you’re too tense. We have gone on far more dangerous missions than this, we’ll find the druid camp and the sorcerer who cursed Merlin, magic would not harm Camelot.”

Arthur sighed, for a moment, allowed his weaknesses to show, for Leon would understand, for Leon knew how difficult it was to keep that mask and never show his true face -- those were the life in the court. “Magic always seeks to harm Camelot.”

Magic which was evil and corrupted any man and woman who tried their hand in it. Magic that destroyed and killed, magic that needed to be eradicated from this world. Arthur had grown up on these beliefs, but some things, some in the past few years made him think that perhaps there was more to it than that. Or at the very least there was now, the purge, killing hundreds if not thousands of people, had left only the bitterness of war and vengeance behind. 

_ “Is a child born good or evil?” _ Merlin had once asked him, those big blue eyes cautious and curious, almost pleading at Arthur. 

_ “Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin. A child is innocent, they do not know good or evil,” _ the prince had answered back then, forcing himself to look away from Merlin, alas he would drown in their ocean blue.

There was silence after that, odd and tense as Merlin resumed to finish his chores for the night, not speaking again until he was standing at the door with a lone lit candle.  _ “But what if the child had been born with magic?” _ he asked but seemed to regret it as he didn’t leave any time for Arthur to answer before he quickly left the prince’s chambers.

They had never spoken of it again after that night, at least not in a direct way, but Merlin’s words lingered in Arthur’s mind as his words so often did. There was just something about the serving boy that made Arthur listen, made him want to know more about all that he knew nothing about. He could sense it from the start, there was just something about Merlin, something different, something special.

“Sire?” Roland’s voice cut through his musing, forcing Arthur to realise that he had been lost in his thoughts for at least a short while. “Here,” he said, offering a waterskin with a hesitant smile. 

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the waterskin and bringing it to his lips. Roland was one of the younger knights, only eighteen summers old but he had grown up in Camelot and Arthur had known him since they were children. He was tall with brownish red hair and deep hazel eyes, rather thin for a knight but more agile than most, they were never too close to one another but Arthur knew that he had always been a kind soul, the type who stopped at the market to help an old maid carry her laundry back home and would offer a smile to anyone he met. 

Roland was young, he hadn’t experienced many things yet, but Arthur knew that he could be trusted - he cared too much about other well beings not to. He was one of those few who would side with the Lady Morgana, whisper of the injustice and hurt of the innocents. When Arthur told him that they would first have to seek a cure for Merlin, mayhaps even a magical one, Roland had simply smiled at him.

“Don’t worry sire,” he said, cutting through Arthur’s line of thoughts yet again. “We’d fix up that lucky charm of yours and he’d be by your side again in no time,” there was cheek there, whispered only for Arthur to hear as he knew Roland feared Leon, if only just a little bit. 

Arthur snorted, slapping Roland’s armoured arm with the waterskin. “He’s not much of a lucky charm with the amount of trouble he seems to attract,” he said, the tiniest of smile on his lips. 

“That’s better sire,” Roland said in a soft voice. “You’re ought to smile more often,” he added, bowing his head with a smile of his own before excusing himself to help the other two knights in setting up their camp. 

It was silly, and yet Arthur felt a bit lighter now. He didn’t have to name it, he didn’t have to acknowledge how much Merlin meant to him -- this mission meant to him because they already knew. 

_ Just hang in there, idiot, just hang in there. _

* * *

 

“You were right,” the hooded figure spoke, eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “Gaius had been able to point it as a curse and Arthur had wasted no time to leave for a chase after this so-called sorcerer. Uther is livid at the thought of magic being cast within his own castle.”

A small chuckle echoed at those words, the woman stepping into the light of the groove with a smirk attached to her lips. She was beautiful with her long blonde locks and her majestic red dress, but her eyes rediated with both power and cruelty, defying her otherwise graceful nature. “Where is it that Arthur rides to?” 

“I’ve heard one of the knights mention that they ride for Essetir, for they believe it would be where the sorcerer would fled to, alas the prince,” she almost spat at the title, “was too  _ preoccupied _ to make a valid plan, he had only taken three knights with him.”

The blonde witch smiled grew at the news, “I am sure my dear friend Cenrad would love to hear of the prince of Camelot in his borders,” she said, her voice deep and sinister. “It would be such a shame for an accident to befall him on such a mission.”

“Uther would be devastated,” said her companion, “he’d blame Cenrad, surely he would commence a war.”

“Broken by the loss of his prince and unprepared for the war, Camelot would be your to take, sister,” Morgause smiled, for once her plan was working as it should be. She had waited for this revenge for so long, and soon her sister, her little puppet would be queen of the most fearsome kingdom in all of Albion.

Morgana smiled back at her sister, her blue eyes as dark as a stormy sea. “Do you know what makes it even better?” she asked, a dark sense of glee in her tone. “Is that interfering fool that had fallen victim to your curse, how I longed to see him die.” 

For the boy had wronged Morgana with the deepest of betrayals when he had poisoned her, he had been her friend and held one of her deepest secrets. Merlin was someone she trusted and cared for, she thought that he was different than the others, but he had proven to be crueler than them all.

“Arthur’s serving boy? Not your handmaiden?” Morgause had seemed surprised by the news, which left Morgana somewhat perplexed, had her sister not intended for Merlin to be cursed? “How curious.”

“Curious? How?” Morgana asked, demanding an answer. There were many things her sister kept from her, most she did not dare to ask about but this she needed to know.

Morgause began to pace around the small grove, her lips pressing into a thin line. “The curse was not placed upon either the boy or your handmaiden,” she began to explain, “but on Arthur himself. The idea came to me when you mentioned your vision of the commoner sitting upon your throne.” Morgana’s eyes followed the blonde witch as she continued to walk around. “The curse is meant to poison the one his soul require the most, breaking a man by killing the most important person to him. What romanatics may even refer to as soul mates.”

Morgana could see why this outcome would surprise Morgause, even she felt somewhat dumbfounded by the mere idea that bubbling stupid Merlin could be considered, by anyone, Arthur’s soul mate. Yet, if she stopped to think of it, the king’s ward could see some sense in it, Merlin and Arthur were as thick as thieves, both had shown on multiple occasions that they would die for one another, defy and law or enemy that stood in their way. If it was that their friendship ran deeper, no, it was not all too surprising. 

“What if instead of finding the sorcerer Arthur tries to save him?” Morgana then asked, because it would be just like the noble prince to worry about that first. 

“He would have to seek someone with magic, sister, surely the son of Uther would not dare,” said the high priestess, although worry for her plan seeped into her eyes.  “And even if he did, not many would be able to tell the curses was on him and not the boy.”

“What of the druids?” she asked, trying not to panic because she knew that if Arthur was ever to disobey his father, ever seek the help of magic it would be for Merlin, she had seen him do impossible things for his manservants. “There are many in the forest of Essetir.”

Morgause turned to her sister, walking forward and placing her hands on Morgana’s shoulders, a dark look in her eyes. “Then you must ensure that he does not find them,” she said, her voice firm. “Arthur must not lift the curse.”

_ No, he mustn’t _ . Morgana agreed with her sister, determination flared in her veins. “I shall see to it, sister, I shall ride to Essetir with first light, surly the dear prince would not turn me away for he knows how much I, too,  _ care _ for Merlin,” she said, her voice darker than a starless night and then smiled, a smile so sinister that even Morgause seemed taken back by it. “This time, they’ll both die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I meant to post it earlier but kept on editing this chapter for some reason or another. The start is a bit slow, I know, it's mainly to just set the basic of what will be happening in the story. Next chapter would start to introduce more characters and a bit more happening and pick up some speed.


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